by Sun Chara
“Nina.” Cade breathed her name on an intake of breath. “If you’ve touched her I’ll break you apart.”
“You’re hardly in a position to call the shots.” And to emphasize his point, he nudged him with the revolver. “Excuse the pun,” he chortled. “Now step on it.”
Cade thought he must be in a parallel universe…past and present about to detonate. Stuck in the middle, he racked his brains for a way to douse the fuse, and then chuckled. “Nothing quick about battling New York rush hour traffic.”
That hit a nerve, and the enemy’s face folded in distaste, his mouth a thin line. “Radio for the chopper…and no tricks.”
“No.”
He grabbed his mother and pressed the weapon into her back. “Gimme another answer, boy.”
“Yes,” Cade amended on a heartbeat, meeting his mother’s terror-stricken eyes. He pulled out his cell phone, uttered an order, and clicked off. “This way.”
“I give the orders,” his father boasted, chewing his bottom lip.
Cade inclined his head in acquiescence, and Daddy Sloan paused, inspecting the door exit to East 50th Street. “Outside. We’ll climb the fire escape to the roof.”
The moment they set foot on the pavement, two NYPD vehicles screeched to a stop and blocked their path, sirens ripping through the air. “Drop it and raise your hands.” The officers leaped out, took cover behind the cars and drew their pistols.
Panicked, his father grabbed his mother and using her as a human shield, dragged her with him to the deserted parking structure.
A police chopper circled overhead.
He shoved her at the officers and made a run for it.
Cade sprinted after him and tackled, the gun hurling from his hand and skidding across the asphalt. A brief scuffle, and Cade yanked him up by the collar. “Hands over your head…Daddy Sloan.” Cade shoved him forward into the officers’ hands. “Your visit’s been cut short.”
A third cop car swerved in. His uncle and Nina’s father shuffled from the back seat, and Cade grinned. “A family affair.”
“Not exactly,” his mother murmured from the shadows.
Cade snapped his head her way, but didn’t move.
“He’s not your father,” his mother blurted, her features riddled in shock.
“Any more surprises?” Cade muttered, noting his uncle securing an arm around her shoulders. Heck, he felt like a tidal wave had upended him, and then a nuclear blast scrambled his brain. He got it, but a part of him resisted. A myriad of emotions pummeled his insides, turning his words rough. “Someone better tell me what the heck’s going on.”
“I will,” Nina’s father said, stepping up to the plate.
“Where’s Nina?” Cade snarled.
“On her way to Florence.”
“How do you know?”
“She called her mother, trying to reach me.”
Grim-faced, Cade nodded, relief spreading through him. She was safe.
“We’ll fill you in on the way to the airport.” His uncle clamped a hand on his shoulder, and his muscles knotted. “I’ve got my lady, now go get yours…son.”
“I intend to,” Cade bit out in force. But could he?
******
Cade felt like a bull in a china shop, standing smack center on the shop floor of the Fantasy Secrets boutique. Shoving back his hardhat, he curved his mouth in a lopsided grin and perused the merchandise.
No sign of Nina.
He flicked his fingers across a scarlet satin chemise draped over a mannequin,
the sensual feel reminding him…of her. Demolishing the smile from his mouth, he dismissed the frilly nothings surrounding him and trekked to the counter.
Several weeks had elapsed before Cade could extricate himself from the legalities in New York, and jet to Florence. After he arrived, still trying to make sense of the bombshell his mother and uncle…er …father had detonated in his life, he hadn’t sought Nina out immediately.
A self-deprecating grunt echoed from deep in his throat. Today, after touring the development now designed to rebuild rather than bulldoze, he knew the time had come to confront his runaway Cinderella.
He pressed the buzzer next to the computerized cash register.
Swiping his palm across his dirt-stained jeans, he heaved a breath. His gut whipped. Absurd. He was the CEO of Century Corporation, grossing millions globally—that was assured now profits stayed within the company—and here he was feeling like a nerdy teen on his first date. And just because of that, he tautened his features and banged the bell.
Silence.
He palmed the bell again, the sound reverberating around the shop.
“We’re closed,” she called from somewhere in back, her words muffled. “Didn’t you see the closed shutters?”
The sound of her voice was smooth as Southern Comfort on a wintry night, it washed over him, stimulating every fiber of his body.
He kept his finger on the buzzer.
“Who—” She hurled from behind the curtained partition, and lurched
to a stop, her eyes wide with surprise, or was that shock? Removing the pins clamped between her teeth, she poked them in the negligee draped over her arm and brushed the bangs off her forehead. Her elusive scent floated to him, distinguishable even amidst the bottled fragrances and scented candles on the shelves. She’d turned out to be as indefinable as the perfume she wore…and just as provocative.
Sensual.
Sexy.
She tilted her chin and lowered her lashes, her eyes blue slits.
“Wha-at are you do—we’re closed,” she said, her mouth set.
A jab that hit the mark…right beneath his heart, and he almost vaulted the counter to steal a kiss…kisses. His Adam’s apple bopped, and he flexed his abs, controlling his ardor.
“Nope.” He tucked the work-hat under his arm and inclined his head to the door. “Sign says five-thirty.” A glance at his wrist, and he rapped the watch with his knuckle. “Two more minutes.”
“Very well.” She sighed and turning her back to him, hung up the snowy fluff of nothing on a rack. Dawdling, she removed the pins, fiddled
with the price tag and smoothed the folds.
He hooked his boot on the rung of a stool, his jaw taut.
Finally, she spun around, her features tense, her eyes glinting ice. “What can I do for you?”
“Naa, naa.” He wiggled his brows and planted his boot back on the floor. “It’s what I can do for you.”
“Really?” She elevated a shapely eyebrow. “What might that be?”
He grinned.
Her brow dropped back in place, and she assessed him suspiciously.
“I want to buy a gift for a special lady,” he said, his gaze clashing with hers. “And the woman I love.”
“Certainly.” She hurled the word at him like a snowball, her voice an Arctic breeze.
He frowned. Was there a skid beneath her self-assured demeanor?
Good. Perhaps his words had drilled through the frosty exterior to prick her
heart. She certainly had nailed tacks into his.
“I hope you find what you want.”
“Me, too.” He drummed his fingers on the counter.
That garnered him another glare. “What did you have in mind?”
Oh, baby, if you knew what was in my mind. “Uh … something hot, sexy.” His eyes never left her face, and then his grin broadened. “Like the one there. On the rack behind you.”
“It’s very expensive.”
“She’s worth it.”
She nearly gagged at that and clearing her throat, found her voice. “Size?”
He tilted his head, pursed his lips and measured with his hands in the air. “About yours.”
“Pardon?”
“Your size should fit her just fine.”
“Of course.” She spanned her hands on the counter, whizzing in a breath, and he noted the wedding ring still on her finger. A Tarzan yell
exploded inside h
im, but he kept his game face on, tuning into her words.
“Our exclusive lingerie is made to fit all shapes and sizes.”
“I’ll take it.”
Another Arctic front blasted, depositing another layer of frost between them.
“That’ll be thirteen thousand euros.”
“A real bargain,” he mocked.
“We do an exceptional job.”
“I’m expecting it.” He winked.
Nina flicked a curl off her shoulder, her pulse all a flutter again.
The rogue. The blackguard. The jerk. She gritted her teeth, running out of choice adjectives to hurl at him, even if it was only in her mind. He’d stolen her heart with his laissez-faire attitude and then, stomped on it. Why else would he be buying gifts for another woman? Well, she wouldn’t let him know how much it got to her.
“We aim to please our customers,” she murmured, giving him a coquettish smile.
“Yeah,” he ground out, his mouth firm.
“Will that be cash or credit?” Nina removed the negligee from the hanger, allowing the sheer silk trimmed with fur to slide between her fingers. “No personal checks. No exceptions.”
He raised both eyebrows, and then slammed them back in place, entrapping her in his laser-sharp focus for a long hot beat. “Natch.” Shrugging, he pulled out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.
“Would you like it gift wrapped?” She took a gift box from beneath
the counter, set it on top and outlined it with gold speckled tissue paper.
“Not before I see it in action.”
“What do you mean?” She picked up a pair of scissors from the shelf, snipped off a length of ribbon from the roll, replaced the shears and folded the garment. Had to keep busy, the mantra drummed in her head, and remain detached from his sexual magnetism. Fat chance, but she had to try, didn’t she?
“Surely a demo job goes with that rip-off price?” He slid a finger down the bridge of his nose, and pursed his mouth.
Her hands stilled over the folds of the fabric, and she rammed him with a glassy stare. Was that a shadow of tenderness in his eyes? It couldn’t be for her. It was either that or a trick of the twilight glowing behind the sealed shutters.
“A demo—what?”
“You know, model it.”
“Sorry, the model has left for the day.”
“You’ll do.”
“No.”
“Scared?”
“No private showings without security present.” Her words were
barbed, and she hoped she hit the mark…right into his heart. “And none to strangers.”
He winced, but quickly rebounded. “I’m no stranger.” He green-lighted her head to toe with his gaze, spot checking her cleavage, the apex of her thighs and back up to her mouth, her eyes.
Her stomach plummeted, and then righted, her nerves twittered, but she managed to toss him a haughty look. “That could be disputed.”
A smirk, and he chuckled. “Not from where I’m standing.”
“What is it you want, Cade?”
“To spend money on my lady.” He pulled out a wad of bills from his wallet, tossed them on the counter, and then shoved the wallet in his back
pocket. “Throw that red number on my tab too. A wedding gift.”
Nina gripped the counter with one hand and squashed gold ribbon with the other. The hotshot from Manhattan had returned in full form on
Roman soil; swinging in the groove and brandishing his wealth on gifts for his new amour. And already talking about another nuptial hook up.
A bitter taste scoured her throat, her heart, and her emotions. She had been foolish to entertain even the remotest possibility that he’d come for her…come to work things out.
A dry sound whisked from her mouth.
“Something amusing?”
“Ye…no.” No way would she strut before him in that x-rated froth of fabric simply for his joy ride. The padlock around her heart clicked in place. It hurt. Too much.
He’d seen her in less, touched her everywhere, kissed, fondled … She didn’t want to remember, but her body thrummed with awareness. A silent moan spread through her, every cell vibrating to alertness…desire.
“Shall I call my security, Nina?”
“No need,” she said, her tone dismissive. “You can take your business elsewhere.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Stores are closed, remember?”
“Not my problem.”
“Could be?”
“How so?”
“Had a talk with your father.”
She laughed. “You can’t play that card on me again, Cade. I talked with him too.”
“And?” He caught her in his hawkish sights, challenging… assessing.
Her lashes dipped. “He explained about your father…your uncle…
not…” Her words trailed off, her tone softening, and she lifted her lashes,
giving him a direct look.
“Yeah, well,” Cade grunted. “I’m a big boy.”
A tense silence fractured only by the sound of traffic along the Via Cassia, the main route south to Rome.
“I’ll…uh…have this wrapped up for you in a sec,” she murmured.
He propped his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, so closely she could smell his aftershave…cool spice…mingled with sweat and man. It brought back all the memories she had tried to forget.
Erotic.
Sensual. Arousing.
Maddening.
“Then you don’t know?” he said, his tone confidential, his breath tickling her cheek.
“Know what?” She snapped away from her thoughts, her hands hovering over the negligee.
A wolfish smile slashed his mouth. “You play and I’ll say.”
“What?”
“Model it.”
“Blackmail, Cade?”
He grinned. “Never.”
She slapped her hands on the counter, and her bracelet jiggled. “I want to know what it is first.”
“Go change, and I’ll spice up the conversation.”
“You first.”
He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and pushed away from
the counter. “Your father and my uncle hatched a—”
“Go on.”
“Uh, uh.” He motioned her to the fitting room. “Your move.”
How dare he come in here, buying sexy gifts for—well she wouldn’t dwell on that—and if that hadn’t been enough, demanding she play pinup girl and spinning some tale of intrigue to trip her up. A hissy fit was in the making, but she squashed that inclination, deciding instead to teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.
“Well, okay.” She swept her hair to one side, her earring jangling and turned her back. “Unzip me, please.”
Or would she get burned in the process?
“Careful, it might get stuck.”
“Sure thing.” Cade stepped closer, tempted to bend his head and nuzzle her neck, feasting on her pulse point. Don’t rush it. He tautened his torso, crushed the craving but couldn’t resist brushing the stray curls from her nape. He lowered the zipper until his fingers skimmed the dip of her back, itching to explore further. A blast of air from his mouth, and he curved his palm on her hip.
“Did it catch?” she whispered, denting his already tenuous control.
She shifted in his hands, and he wanted to take, hold—
“Naa.” He checked the alluring curves of her derriere and just when he made up his mind to touch, stroke, cup, she turned around in his arms.
“Thank you.” She tilted her head his way, her voice husky, her lashes shadowing her eyes.
His gut coiled. Had he just lost command of the situation? This five-foot-two with eyes that could turn to midnight with passion and glitter ice blue with annoyance had in the last two minutes gotten the upper hand. And he didn’t like it, not at all.
“Sure, anytime.”
She swept up the negligee and trotted to the fitting room, tossing over
her shoulder. “Continue.”
Hmm, playing games was she? He’d go along and see where it got him.
“My father and your uncle plotted…” she prompted, her voice catching.
“To get us hitched.”
She jerked to a stop, her back stiffening, her hands squeezing the silk. “They conspired to get us— why?”
“To protect—”
She spun around. “Who?”
He inclined his head toward the changing room.
She scurried inside.
“You.”
“Protect me?” She poked her head out from behind the curtain.
“Why? From what? Whom?”
He shook his index finger at her. “Tuh, tuh.”
She quickly withdrew, the dress slid to her ankles and she stepped from it.
“Married to me, you’d have legal claim to Century Corp.” He glimpsed her feet from beneath the drapes, the graceful arch of her instep, her— Focus, man. “Securing your financial future—a payoff for your father’s lifetime of service. And” –he paused, debated— “A sleight of hand against the hacker.”
“Really?” she queried, the word muffled by the swish of cloth behind the curtain.
“Sheltering a portion of Century’s assets—”
“In my name,” she said, her words clearer now.
“—in the event the hacker gutted the company before we could spring him with the goods.”
“You mean I own half of Century Corp?”
“Not exactly,” he grunted. “When you ditched, the hacker…hackers scrambled to revise their plan.”
“Your uncle…real father—”
“And yours.”
“I see.” But did she? Nina slipped the sheer fabric over her head, wiggled and it fell, a soft caress upon her breasts and barely covering her tush. “And now?”
“It’s over.”
She didn’t have to wonder if his words carried a double meaning. She brushed her hands over her hips, the sensual feel of silk an answer. But it was for another woman. A sour taste skimmed her tongue, tainting her words.
“Let’s see,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “About to tank, you sold out for three mil and a stint at matrimony.”
“A strategic move, Nina,” he said, impatience in his voice. “In a dire financial clinch.”